


Slip

by ThatKanraGirl



Category: The Magicians (TV)
Genre: Alcohol, Drabble, M/M, NSFW, Oneshot, Oral Sex, queliot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-05
Updated: 2016-05-05
Packaged: 2018-06-06 12:35:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 867
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6754015
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThatKanraGirl/pseuds/ThatKanraGirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Eliot is thankful for the unnamed green drink that masks the taste of the boy that's not Quentin Coldwater on his tongue.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Slip

There’s an ache in the pit of Eliot’s stomach that hasn’t quite settled since school started up again, and he wonders briefly between drags of his cigarette if just the alcohol racing through his veins that’s making him uneasy, but he knows deep down it’s not. He takes another long drag of his Merit and chases it with something green that he’s sure he mixed but he can’t remember the ingredients, only that it’s bitter on his tongue and burns his throat on the way down, something that he’ll be grateful for by the end of the night.

Hands, much rougher than what Eliot is in the mood for palm his shoulder and thick fingers tighten in his hair, effectively drawing his attention to a boy a year ahead of him with messy blond curls and a misleading smile looming over him. Eliot can’t be bothered to remember his name, but he thinks it might be Austin Darcy, or something like that. He greets the boy who might be Austin with a crooked smirk and a quirked eyebrow, and the nod toward the stairs is the only invitation Eliot needs before he’s following after this water-bending asshole.

Eliot’s bedroom door shuts heavily behind them, but he can’t hear a thing over how loud his head is. His thoughts swim in an ocean of desire that he’s terrified to put into words just yet and he bitterly entertains the idea of letting the boy who might be Austin use his magic on him after all just to quiet his mind for a night.

His knees hit the floor with a surprising grace despite his intoxication and he purses his lips tightly around his slow burning smoke as he drags his bare palms over the front of maybe Austin’s slacks. Beneath the fabric, his cock stiffens, twitching to attention with every hasty press of Eliot’s hands and Austin chuckles. Eliot thinks he says something to him along the lines of “Hurry the fuck up and suck me off,” and Eliot has no choice but to obey such commands. 

He wonders if Quentin Coldwater would be so commanding, if he could make his pants tight and his tip ooze with anticipation at just the touch of his hands. It’s a delightful thought, one that Eliot keeps in the front of his mind as he peels Austin’s slacks and boxers away. He admits that water boy has an impressive package, but not aloud, and he toys with imagining if his little first year boy would like if he sucked him off. The thought alone makes Eliot groan, and he thinks that maybe Quentin isn’t so impressive in size, but he might just fit perfectly between his lips.

Austin makes a guttural noise when Eliot presses his cigarette haphazardly into an ashtray on the nightstand table and finally drags the width of his tongue along the underside of his erection and Eliot sucks him hard – all the way in, then half way up, and back down again, until he sucks what substance has gathered at the tip and does it again. It’s a rhythm that works wonders, and Eliot’s personal favorite because it coincides with any song in common time, and there’s nothing more magical than sex and music. He’s lost in a trance, and he hardly cares that might be Austin is fucking his mouth after long because he’s thinking of Quentin. He’s thinking of how Quentin’s hips would roll in ecstasy into his mouth until he ever so gently taps the back of his throat and oh, the noises he would make.

Eliot is addicted to this boy like a drug he’s never hit, allured by his brave heart and unguarded smile, which he’s certain is only reserved for him. He wants to be the one that makes Quentin’s knees shake and his lip quiver before he comes.

A moan pushes its way from Eliot’s throat as probably Austin comes without warning, and Eliot lets it pool from his bottom lip before he spits and wipes the remnants with the back of his hand. It’s such a vile thing, but he might consider drinking Quentin dry, if that’s what he wanted. Austin hoists his pants up and is gone before Eliot can stand, not that Eliot cares. He’s already unbuckling his pants and stroking himself, moaning Quentin’s name like a dirty secret to his own nasty beat.

His cock is so swollen, so unbelievably hot, and he can’t recall ever needing someone so much before in his life. He’s gone, lost in a drunken melody that’s floating through his mind on Quentin’s tailcoat and Eliot jerks his hips hard. He barely has a mind to cover his mouth as he nearly screams the name of his desire. Come spills onto the carpet and drips down his front. His chest heaves as he tries to catch his breath and sinks against the side of the bed in a drunk, pitiful pile.

It’s now that Eliot is thankful for the unnamed green drink. He’s already forgotten the taste of the boy he’s not so sure was Austin, but he thinks he might want Quentin to be a stain on his tongue forever.


End file.
